


Where I Go, When I Go There

by rainy_fangirl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainy_fangirl/pseuds/rainy_fangirl
Summary: “Hold me, and stay a while?” It's both an offer and a plead. A promise and a confession.





	Where I Go, When I Go There

Mikasa always enters and leaves his room in tears, but Jean pretends not to notice. The cottage is big enough to hold all of them (what's left of them, anyways), but that doesn't stop anyone from using the barracks (albeit spaced out, the 104th has bedrooms to spare). They love the privacy, revel in it, and it keeps them from going mad. At least, that's what Jean chooses to believe, the reality isn't that simple. He wants to think that they're in love despite the war, He wants to forget that she sees  _ what they are _ as more than a distraction from the fact that all their friends are dead. 

 

The real, impure truth of their nightlives is more intricate and natural. A wake up, a reminder. It's completely improper, they see each other every day, in the cottage and the woods, and most often, each other's bedrooms (mostly Jean's, Mikasa always comes to him and never the other way around). On nights like these she wears button down nightgown with her Survey Corps jacket over it, thick and plush down comforter thrown over, no trademark scarf, or even shoes, even in the dead of January. Jean thinks the blanket is the nicest thing she owns, he’s had a hunch that she stole it, but Jean would never say anything, they aren’t there yet. It’s an interesting ensemble, but he doesn’t comment, he only sees it for a few minutes Jean is too captivated by her, a knowing, resigned curiosity in his eyes as she strips it off, leaving the comforter discarded in the corner. They’re not exactly quiet about, but actually talking is a different story. Sure, it starts out soft and whispered, little “Is this okay?”s and “Are you sure?”s, leading up until she crests her climax, nails digging into his shoulders. Panting, gasping, screaming his name. It was always over too soon, even when he could practically feel Levi’s glares from the other side of the camp. Too soon for Mikasa to leave Jean's arms, too soon for the memory of her lips to leave his skin, for the feeling of her muscles, hard and unwilling against him to contract and relax. Too soon for her to straighten once they were both finished, thanking him quietly while she pulled her clothes back on, tears streaming down her face and exhaustion tugging at her weary bones. 

 

He doesn't say anything, they aren’t anything. Mikasa’s so far gone, eyes clouded over with residual tears and memory. She isn’t there, despite how much Jean tries to make her feel like she is, despite how much Mika wishes she could be. And she wants to too, she wants to love him and hold him and tell him everything and be  _ anything _ more than comrades and occasional bedmates. Mikasa Ackerman wants Jean Kirstein as he is, but she’s not ready for him yet, isn’t sure if she ever will be. At least for now, in between his sheet, his hands clutching at her curves, her fingers pulling at his hair, this is how they are for now, nothing more, nothing less.

 

It's just Mikasa and Sasha now, the other girls are long gone, and the two of them are so far separated, nobody but Jean can hear her pull him out of bed, smiling softly and silently as he rises to greet her, hidden smiles and eyebrow raises and playful smirks carrying the two of them all the way back to her dorm. Mikasa still cries, but only a little, wiping them away quickly. He’s not sure what he's expecting, but it feels so right when she shrugs off her jacket, her fingers intertwined with his as she glances up from the end of the mattress. “Hold me, and stay a while?” It's both an offer and a plead. A promise and a confession.

 

Jean's arms encompass her, a mumbled “Anything for you” and a kiss to the back of her neck settles them, Mikasa pulls the comforter over them, blowing out the lantern on her nightstand. 

 

“Goodnight.” He mumbles, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

 

“We'll talk tomorrow?” Her voice is quiet, begging for confirmation. “About what you sleeping here says about us.”

 

“Tomorrow, promise.”


End file.
